


The Surprise

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Bondage, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Good Brother Sam Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 09:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After saving a pagan virility god, Dean refuses to accept anything in return for his help.He gets something anyway, though he doesn’t know it until he’s enjoying some private time with his angel.This is definitely not Dean’s idea of a reward.





	The Surprise

“You sure this guy’s a god?”

Dean leaned in close to Cas, keeping his voice down, as he watched the old man he’d saved prod curiously at the buttons on the microwave.

Cas nodded, though he seemed just as uneasy as Dean at having the stranger in their home. “We’ve never interacted; my father didn’t favour us having anything to do with other deities.”

That figured, Dean thought, though he had to laugh at the notion of Chuck being so snobby given the life he’d been leading after deserting his kids and leaving them to tear up the house.

All the same, it was hard to reconcile the shambling figure in front of him with a god, and a god of virility as well.

He was a little over five foot five, with a long scraggly beard, and wispy white hair that came down to his waist. Kind of like a B movie Gandalf, Dean had said, when he was sure he couldn’t be heard.

Complete with shabby wizard robes that trailed him like they were hand me downs, so that the hem was tattered.

Dean was trying to pretend the old man’s fingernails weren’t long and jagged, and looked caked with dirt. Once he was gone, he was taking a bucket of hot water and bleach to every damn surface in this place.

“So, uh, Birindor,” he said, “what are you going to do now?”

The old man looked around him, taking in the marvel of their kitchen with an eager glint in his eye. “Such a wonderful place!”

It was as if he’d been living in the woods for centuries, but given the look of him Dean wouldn’t have been surprised.

“But it’s all too…bright, too fancy, for me,” he went on. “Too puzzling. No, I’ll got back to my den, and hopefully this time be left in peace.”

“Those witches won’t be bothering you again,” Dean said. Not since they’d killed four and the other one had fled, unlikely to return.

“No, I have to thank you for that,” Birindor said. “So few follow the older religions now, which makes us weak. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so helpless.”

Dean waved off his thanks, but the old man persisted. 

“I owe you much; is there anything I can give you as a reward?”

“No, honestly,” Dean said. He was still weary at accepting anything from the fingersnap brigade, unable to think of a single time the small print hadn’t turned it to shit before he could blink. And it looked like Birindor had only the robes he was standing up in.

But the old man was looking from Dean to Cas, knowingly, and then he clapped his hands. “I see. Very well, then. Castiel, if you speak to your father, do ask if he’d be willing to nudge a few followers in our direction; he mustn’t be greedy, and he has enough to spare.”

“If I speak to him,” Cas said, his tone making it clear he’d be very surprised if that happened. “He’s...on vacation.”

Birindor laughed at that. “Well. When he returns, then. Take care, children.”

And then the air took on a damp, outdoor smell to it, and the old man was gone.

Dean turned to look at his boyfriend; it never went well when anybody mentioned Chuck, and Dean nudged Cas’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

Cas shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

“Ahuh.” Dean was in the angel’s personal space, tugging on his belt to pull him closer still. “Anything I can do about that?”

Cas didn’t look as low as before, and Dean caught the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

Dean grabbed his hand and hurried him back to their room.

++ 

Cas groaned as Dean sank deep into him, pausing to give the angel time to adjust, before mouthing his way along Cas’s neck and up to the angel’s lips.

After a minute of kissing, Dean looked at the leather cuffs binding Cas’s wrists to the bed. “Still okay?”

Cas bore down around him, making Dean gasp; in retaliation, he pinched one of Cas’s nipples, drawing a curse from the angel.

“Language,” Dean admonished, grinning. “And, uh, safeword?”

“Jelly,” Cas said. “Could you do _something_?”

Dean didn’t draw it out, and before long Cas was breathing hard, probably feeling Dean’s movements deeper with the sigiled cuffs on his wrists than he normally did. 

They didn’t always play like this, but Cas liked to indulge Dean, and Dean knew it, though he also knew Cas got something out of it too.

Dean always made sure his angel was okay, though, and would never do anything to abuse the trust Cas showed him.

And he always made sure Cas came first, which he did, streaking them both with his release, and then sagging back, panting.

Dean kept thrusting, and grunted as it took more effort than before. It felt like Cas was tightening up around him, and that must have been a new trick the angel had learned.

It was pushing him faster towards his climax, and he reached out to interlink his fingers with Cas’s as he finally came.

He sagged over the angel, resting his forehead against Cas’s, letting his breathing and heart rate settle.

“Fuck, Cas,” he said. “Gonna kill me one of these days. You been using Sammy’s laptop for, uh, hints and tips again?”

Cas gave him a glare that was only half mollified by the sated look on his face. “Don’t project your sins on to me, Dean Winchester. If I have to look up anything, I use yours.”

Dean decided to let it go; if Cas wasn’t willing to admit to using Pornhub to up his game, Dean wouldn’t push, especially not if the orgasm he’d just experienced was the result.

But he didn’t miss the way Cas was suddenly wincing. “Angel?”

“Uh...Could you…. Dean, could you pull out, I’m starting to hurt.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, wondering if maybe Cas had gotten a little too enthusiastic and injured himself. He’d check, and started to slip out of the angel when Cas suddenly gave a sharp yelp.

“What is it?” Dean demanded, but a second later he knew, because he couldn’t move. Somehow, he was locked inside Cas, and the angel was straining at the cuffs holding him helpless.

“Dean,” he panted, “Dean, something’s wrong, stop moving!”

Dean forced himself to calm down and listen to Cas, but the urge to try and pull out was almost overwhelming. For him to be stuck like this, something had to be wrong, and he imagined finally getting free to find his dick was deformed, or mutated or _something_.

He must have shifted without realising because this time Cas cried out his name for nothing to do with pleasure.

“Dean!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Dean petted Cas’s face, trying to settle him, and trying to put all his focus into not moving any part of him that was below the waist.

“The cuffs,” Cas said. “Just undo the cuffs.”

Dean reached out, carefully, to unbuckle first one cuff, and then the other. As soon as Cas’s wrists were free Dean could feel the surge of Grace, and Cas seemed a little less in discomfort than before, at least.

“What is it,” he demanded, because now Cas was free, he’d be able to tell, he’d be able to fix both of them.

“It’s…”. Cas’s expression was perplexed, and that didn’t comfort Dean at all.

“Cas?”

“It’s a _knot_ ,” Cas said.

Dean couldn’t have moved then if his life had depended on it. “What do you mean, a _knot_?” 

“When...certain animals...copulate…”

“I know what a knot is!” He regretted yelling the minute he was done, and dropped his voice again. “Cas, Cas, I’m sorry, but humans...we don’t have knots. I mean, I didn’t yesterday, I’m goddamn sure!”

“Please don’t bring my father into this,” Cas said. “And I’m well aware that you weren’t different yesterday.”

So what the hell had changed in twenty four hours? Dean knew for a fact he hadn’t touched anything he shouldn’t, and the only witches he’d run into were the ones who’d tried to kill…

“Birindor,” Dean said.

Cas gave a frustrated groan. “He did seem keen to reward you.”

“This is his idea of a reward?”

“He’s a virility god,” Cas said, as if that somehow made everything obvious. 

“He can’t just run around, giving guys … dick adjustments!”

Cas looked about to point out that, apparently, he could, but Dean pressed a finger against the angel’s lips.

“Can you fix it?”

Cas shut his eyes, and then grimaced. Dean felt him tremble, and he remembered the painful yelp he’d drawn from Cas by trying to pull out.

“Cas?”

The angel’s eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion when he opened them again.

“No. Once it goes down, you’ll be able to pull out, but until then…. Please, Dean, don’t move.”

“You can’t heal, can you? How bad is it, Cas? Tell me.”

“I’m torn,” Cas admitted. “There’s some discomfort from being stretched by the knot, but it’ll pass. As soon as you’re out of me, I’ll be able to repair the damage.”

The damage.

Damage he’d caused.

“No,” Cas said firmly, as if he’d read Dean’s thoughts. “You’re not to blame here.”

He shuddered before he could say anything else, and Dean stroked his arm gently. “You cold?”

Cas nodded. “I think the knot carries traces of Birindor’s magic, and it’s dampening my Grace.”

The blanket hadn’t been cast that far aside, and Dean managed to snag it without having to jar Cas. He pulled it up over himself, and tucked it around Cas as best he could, then settled down to rest his head on Cas’s shoulder, trying to cover Cas with his body, and share some heat.

“How long do you think?” 

Cas gave a half shrug. “The idea is to ensure conception but since that doesn’t really apply here…”

He trailed off, and Dean lifted his head to stare down at him. “Cas?”

The angel looked as concerned as Dean was sure he did himself. “It’s unlikely.”

Unlikely wasn’t exactly the concrete reassurance he was looking for, but for now it would have to do.

++

It took about thirty minutes before Dean could safely pull out; his dick looked normal (he’d checked it in a fit of panic, before remembering he’d probably hurt Cas earlier).

Cas was torn, and Dean cursed himself and Birindor for his fucked up notion of gratitude, but Cas assured him it was okay, and his eyes gleamed, and then the tearing was healed and the blood was gone.

Even the red smears on the sheet.

But that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Every time Dean went to the toilet that day, he checked himself. He wasn’t going to grudge himself being a little obsessive about it, even sneaking into the corridor and quickly ducking his hand down his pants to feel along his length and reassure himself that the knot wasn’t back.

But just because it didn’t make a sudden reappearance didn’t mean it wouldn’t ever again. 

And Dean wasn’t ready to take the chance it’d do just that when he was inside his angel. 

Even if Cas could heal himself, Dean had still torn him up and caused him pain, and that was not okay.

He was sorry he’d ever rescued that shitty Gandalf Cosplay dude from those witches.

And as for his reward…

Dean had never felt less rewarded by anything in his entire life.

++

It was three days later when Sam came in, and sat down across from him at the kitchen table, and gave him that sober look that suggested a serious conversation was about to take place.

“No,” Dean said, and went back to his coffee and his oatmeal. It was nothing as good as bacon, but his heart would apparently thank him for it by not quitting on him twenty years early.

“Dean,” Sam said, and Dean groaned because he knew Sam wasn’t going to let this go.

“Jeez, what?”

Sam didn’t look impressed by his attempt to make like he didn’t know what this was about.

“You’re really going celibate?”

“I…”. He stared at his brother, dumbstruck, and felt heat tinging his cheeks. “No, I’m not going celibate!”

“Ahuh. Just you’ve been sleeping in the spare room, away from Cas. And I haven’t seen you touch him once since the morning after Birindor left. What are you going to do?”

Dean dug his spoon into his oatmeal, and shoved a heapful into his mouth to give himself time to think.

He didn’t know what he was going to do, not long term, but in the short term the plan was not to stick his dick in Cas when they both knew he wouldn’t be able to get it back out again.

Not right away, anyway.

Even when he’d untied Cas, his angel had still been hurt and in pain and Dean was not okay with that.

Sam was staring at him, with that look that said he’d happily sit here until the bunker finally collapsed from old age around their ears if that was how long it took for Dean to answer him.

“No fucking clue,” he said, finally. “We’ve looked up every damn book on sex magic and virility gods and there’s nothing about this, or how to fix it.”

Sam’s mouth turned down in pity. “Maybe we could try to find Birindor again.”

“Yeah, Sammy. How we gonna do that?” Because they’d found him by accident, trussed up in the witches’ lair, and given his ability to vanish like he had, he could be anywhere by now.

They hadn't found any summoning spells to use for him, either.

Sam said nothing, for a moment, and then a determined look crossed his face.

“If you can’t get rid of it…”

“Looks like,” Dean said.

“And you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in a separate room from Cas…”

“I definitely don’t.”

“Then you’ll need to learn to work around it.”

Dean couldn’t help but look disappointed as he stared at his brother. “That’s it? No three day long research binge? No calling Rowena, or trying to get ahold of Ketch, or…”

Sam looked like Dean had suggested eating raw possum. “You really want to tell Ketch an unwanted gift from a sex god means you can’t have sex with Cas because you’ll get stuck in him?”

“...no.”

Sam nodded. “Because I _already_ had that conversation with Rowena, Dean. It wasn’t fun. She laughed so much she had to hang up. I mean, she called back but it was just to say you’d both pretty much need to get used to it.”

Well, that was fucking ace. How exactly were they going to get used to it? He couldn't fuck Cas without tearing him open and making him bleed and maybe some sick fucks were in to that kind of thing.

Dean wasn’t.

He pushed the bowl of oatmeal away from him, appetite gone. 

“Dean,” Sam said, and he could hear the apology in Sam’s voice, like he thought he’d made things worse.

“It’s okay,” Dean reassured him. “I just...I gotta think about this.”

He grabbed his coat and his car keys, and went upstairs to the garage.

++

Cas was lying on their bed (it was still their bed, even if Dean had temporarily vacated it) when he got back.

He felt his heart sink at the sad look Cas gave him when he saw Dean standing in the doorway, with a tinge of guilt there as well as if it was somehow his fault for this mess, for not being able to resist the damage caused by Birindor’s gratitude.

“Hey, sunshine. You okay?”

Cas sat up, and brought his knees up to his chest. “No. Dean, I miss you. I miss _us_. I know you’re frightened about hurting me, but I can…”

“Nope.” Dean sat down next to him, and cupped Cas’s face. “That is not what we’re going to do. I’d rather never have sex again than you having to put up with pain so I can get off. It’s not an option.

“And anyway, I have an idea.”

He put the plastic bag he was carrying on the bed in front of the angel, and nodded when Cas looked at him questioningly. “Go on.”

Cas pulled out a long box, and carefully opened it before staring in puzzlement at what was inside. 

“Dean,” he said. “It’s you I want, not…”

He gestured unhappily at the plug Dean had purchased.

“You’ll get me, angel, I promise,” Dean said. “But only when you’re wide enough to take me. I figured before we get up to anything, you could wear this for a while to stretch you out, get you ready. It’s a little wider than the knot, I think, which means I can pull out without us getting, uh, tied. The only thing I need to know is you won’t…. End up too loose?”

Dean wasn’t the only one looking embarrassed then; he saw the same flush spread up Cas’s cheeks that he was sure was on his own.

“I can make the necessary adjustments.”

Only Cas could sound so clinical and still turn him on at the same time.

Dean got up, and closed the door. “So why don’t we give it a try?”


End file.
